Between Here and Forever - Elizabeth Scott [4]
Underneath, you can smell unwashed flesh and fear and how off everything is. How everyone who’s in here, all the patients lying in all their beds, aren’t here because they want to be. They’re here because they have to be. Or because this is the last place they’ll ever see.
The elevator comes and I step inside, prepare to see Tess.
After I’m buzzed in to her unit, I walk to her room. She looks the same; thin, pale, somehow gone but yet still here. Her hair’s been washed, though, and it shines, golden against the white of her pillow. A nurse is fixing one of her IVs, and sighs when she sees me.
Tess was—is—always good at getting people to like her.
I suck at it.
“I’m going to change her sheets,” the nurse says, and I nod, sit down to wait even though the nurse sighs again, and then Claire walks by like I’ve somehow summoned her. I start to wave, but she isn’t looking at me. She’s looking at the unit entrance, and I realize everyone else is too, that all the nurses are turned toward it like something’s going to happen. Weird.
Then the buzzer sounds and a guy comes in.
“Tess,” I say, leaning over and whispering in her ear. “You’re missing your big chance. Everyone’s staring just because some guy’s come in here, and you know what that means. He must be cute.”
Nothing.
“I’m not kidding,” I say. “One guy, and all the nurses are looking at him. That means very cute. Just like when you walk into a room.”
Then, weirdly, the guy is actually coming toward the room, toward Tess, the nurse who was babbling at me about sheets before hurrying over to him.
“Thank you so much for doing this,” she says, all giddy-voiced. “I can’t tell you how nice it is of you to help out, and—”
And then she stops talking because she walks right into the door.
I shouldn’t laugh, but I do because it’s impossible not to—she walked into a door, after all—and she glares at me as she ushers the guy in. I get an impression of dark hair and eyes, but not much more because the nurse is fluttering all around him. And also because I just don’t care.
“Now, I thought you could help me lift the patient up,” the nurse says to him. “Then I’ll—oh, I didn’t get the sheets, hold on. Claire—Claire! Oh good, there you are. Would you grab some sheets, please?”
Claire rolls her eyes at me, fast, and then says, “Of course,” and heads off.
“It’ll be just a moment,” the nurse says to the guy, still all fluttery-voiced, and when I look at her, she’s blushing.
She should be. She’s my mom’s age, at least, and the guy is about mine, I think, which makes what I’m sure she’s thinking a felony.
As for the guy, he’s pretty disappointing now that I’m finally looking at him. I mean, he’s staring at the floor like a lump. He’s probably uncomfortable being here, where everything is so silent, and everyone’s in the kind of sleep you never ever want to fall into, but still.
Then he looks up and …
He looks up, and my brain actually stops working for a moment, because the guy is gorgeous. Not gorgeous in the oh-hey-hot-guy way, but actually truly gorgeous.
Beautiful, even. His skin is caramel colored, a warm glowing golden brown, and his hair is so black that even the hideous fluorescent lights do nothing to it, don’t make it look greenish or stringy. He’s got the kind of cheekbones I’ve only seen on guys in magazines. Ditto for his nose and chin and forehead, and his dark eyes framed by lashes that Tess would murder someone for.
He is, in short, human perfection. Even if he has gone back to staring at the floor and has his arms folded across his chest, fingers tapping against his skin like he’s bored. I lean over and nudge Tess.
“Come on, Tess, open your eyes. This guy is so pretty, I swear he’s better-looking than you.”
The guy clears his throat at that, and I look at him again.
“What? Oh, right, I called you pretty. Sorry. But you are. I mean …” I trail off.
He actually looks at me then, and I feel my face heat, turn back to Tess.
“Okay, here we are,” Claire